


Wake up call

by HollyMartins



Series: We All Shine On (Reddie Adventures in Parenthood) [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adopted Children, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, Domestic, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Family Feels, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), References to Depression, Richie Tozier is a Mess, The Shining References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyMartins/pseuds/HollyMartins
Summary: Richie struggles through a difficult time, unaware that it is thoroughly affecting his family.Or, the author wanted some domestic Reddie angst.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: We All Shine On (Reddie Adventures in Parenthood) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629955
Comments: 20
Kudos: 82





	Wake up call

**Author's Note:**

> Readers, beware, below you will find angst. Also, I would recommend you read the first title in this series: "Two negatives make a positive" to fully understand the family dynamics at play here. It's not necessary, I think, but it would be helpful.
> 
> Please enjoy and thank you so very much reading. Please remember that comments are love and writers as insecure as myself depend on them for nourishment.
> 
> Not beta-read so any mistakes are my own.

“We’re not doing this right now.”

“Doing what? Talking?”

“Fighting, arguing, whatever the fuck you want to call it.”

“And that’s your decision to make, Richie? You get to make that call?”

“Do you see where we are?” Richie asked, sweeping his arm out. “We’re at a fucking party for Bill and you’re stirring shit up. Whatever is pissing you off this time can wait until we get home.”

He made as if to leave the balcony and return to the party but Eddie grabbed his arm.

“You won’t fucking remember what’s pissing me off when we get home,” he insisted.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Richie said, pulling his arm out of Eddie’s grasp.

“It means exactly what you think it does,” Eddie continued, his eyes dark.

Richie pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Can we please have the ‘you’re an alcoholic’ talk later?” he asked. “Or at least anywhere else but our friend’s fucking book launch?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned back towards the large, art deco doors that led inside. Even with the noise of the city traffic below and the music and shouting from the party inside, Richie could still hear how heavily Eddie was breathing.

“I’m leaving,” he said.

Richie stopped short and whirled around.

“What?” he demanded.

“I’m fucking leaving and going home,” Eddie repeated, his face tight with anger.

“We can’t leave,” Richie replied blankly. “It’s Bill’s party. They haven’t even toasted his stupid new book yet.”

“I said I’m leaving,” Eddie answered, “you don’t have to.”

Richie blinked at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We came together. I fucking drove.”

“I’m going home and you can stay here all night but I’m done. I’ll say goodbye to Bill and everyone but I’m done.”

“Eddie—”

“I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night,” Eddie said, his sharp gaze on his husband unwavering.

Richie stared at him blankly, his sluggish mind trying to play catch up to the last couple of minutes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie said suddenly and pushed past him towards the door. “Try not to drink so much.”

He disappeared inside the party.

The house was quiet when Richie walked in the next day. He frowned as he walked up the stairs, always hating the stillness of the house when the children weren’t around. He planned on walking straight into the bedroom but was stopped by the sight of Eddie at the kitchen table with his tablet and a cup of tea. He looked fine. He glanced up to notice Richie standing stupidly in the doorway, still wearing yesterday’s suit, now terribly wrinkled. Well, mass transit will do that to you.

“Where are the girls?” Richie asked.

“At your mother’s,” Eddie replied. “She needed help weeding the yard so I volunteered them.”

Richie sighed and looked away, his head aching.

“I’m going to go shower and take some aspirin and then you can yell at me all you want,” he said, shrugging.

“I don’t want to yell at you, you idiot,” Eddie replied, putting his tablet down. “I never do.”

“Well, I guess you’re the one who should go into acting,” Richie said, huffing a laugh, “because you sure fooled me.”

“Richie, I—”

“You left me,” he said, his eyes suddenly clear as he stared at his husband, “you left me at that fucking party and I had to crash with Bev and Ben like some college kid and dodge all their questions because they all saw that we’re in a fucked up place but you left me to deal with that. What the fuck, Eds?”

Eddie gazed up at Richie, his mouth drawn down in a thin line.

“I didn’t want to go at all,” he pointed out. “You know that. And you only went because your agent wanted you to bullshit with those Netflix people.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Richie sighed, running a hand through his hair, “you’re pissed because of a little networking?”

Eddie sighed and reached for his cup of tea.

“That’s not it and you know it,” he replied, taking a sip.

“Oh, fuck off,” Richie shot back, “and quit acting all calm and aloof. Just tell me what’s bothering you and let’s get it over with.”

“This isn’t about getting over anything,” Eddie answered. “We’ve been in the shit for a while now and last night was all I could take. You don’t see yourself, Richie. You don’t know what it’s like watching you act like that.”

“Last night couldn’t have been the first time I’ve embarrassed you at a social gathering,” Richie scoffed. “And that’s still not reason enough to leave me there. Talk about fucking embarrassing.”

“You didn’t embarrass me,” Eddie insisted. “You...you fucking...you’re weren’t you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Richie,” Eddie repeated, suddenly standing and stepping towards his husband, “I know it’s been hard since your dad died but—”

“No,” Richie shot back, lifting a hand up to stop him, “don’t fucking do that. Don’t blame our issues on my dad.”

“I’m not doing that,” Eddie exclaimed, “but Jesus, Rich, it’s obvious you’re in a depression.”

“Oh, for fuck’s…”

“And it’s affecting everyone. Richie, you owe it to us to get better.”

Richie stared at Eddie, his eyes wide and his face drawn and pale.

“I owe it to who?” he asked hoarsely.

Eddie hesitated before admitting softly, “To your family. Not just me and the girls but—”

“You think I’m affecting the girls?” he repeated.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“They’re not stupid,” he replied. “Even if Tess didn’t have the shine, they’d notice anyway. I mean, for God’s sake, you’re not exactly subtle.”

Richie turned, shaking his head.

“The girls are fine,” he answered hollowly. “It’s not like I’m having breakdowns in front of them.”

He stepped out of the kitchen and was nearly at the hallway when he heard Eddie say, “I know you drink when you’re home alone with them.”

Every atom inside of Richie seemed to still, and his very skin prickled with shame and despair.

“Tess told you,” he muttered sadly.

“She didn’t but it doesn’t matter,” Eddie replied. “I’ve had my suspicions for a couple of weeks but now I know for certain. Richie, look at me.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Eddie,” he whispered, “just let me go take a shower and forget the last twenty-four hours.”

“Richie.”

“Please, no.”

He heard Eddie sigh from behind him.

“Fine,” Eddie said, “then I’ll just tell you. I already got rid of all the alcohol in the house. And I’m going to give you an ultimatum.”

This caught Richie’s attention and he turned to gaze at his husband nervously.

“You stop drinking and go into therapy this week,” Eddie continued, “or you’re moving into a hotel.”

Richie blinked, his jaw going slack. A red mist suddenly seemed to rise over his vision as a low roar filled his ears.

“What did you just say?” he whispered.

“It’s been going on for too long,” Eddie continued. “We need to end this.”

“You’re going to kick me out of our house?”

Eddie stared at him as if shock.

“Richie, did...did you not just hear me? I want you to get better. You need to get better.”

“Or you’ll kick me out, right? Keep me away from my children?”

“For fuck’s…”

“Children _you_ didn’t even want, to begin with.”

Eddie clamped his mouth shut and swallowed, visibly trying to keep calm. He cleared his throat.

“Richie—”

“No, you don’t get to do this,” Richie said frantically. “You don’t get to take my girls away from me.”

“I’m not doing that,” Eddie insisted. “I’m not kicking you out.”

“Unless I do what you say.”

“Unless you get better. I mean, don’t you want that?”

“Fuck you, Eddie,” Richie muttered, his voice thick.

“Don’t you want that for us and our girls?”

“Don’t fucking bring them into this,” Richie exclaimed, jabbing at Eddie’s chest with a finger. “Don’t do that shit.”

“Richie—”

“Why does everything have to be so fucking drastic with you? Always the fucking worse case scenario,” he begged.

“This is the worst case scenario.”

Richie stepped back and shook his head.

“I don’t let them see me drink,” he muttered in a small voice as if that made it all better. “I hide it.”

“Richie, they know,” Eddie repeated despondently. “Tess and Lydia, I mean. They’re not little anymore.”

“I know,” Richie whispered, sounding dangerously close to tears, “I know they aren’t little anymore.”

Eddie quirked his head as he peered at his husband, his eyes suddenly concerned.

“Richie,” he asked, “is that part of it?”

“Is what part of what?” he shot back as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, his head aching.

Eddie seemed to be staring right through him and it was suddenly all too much for Richie to handle. He clenched his eyes shut and turned away, desperate to escape. Absently, he heard Eddie call his name again but he ignored it as he rushed down the hall to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him and giving himself over to his panic attack.

When Richie woke up, he was aware of three things: 1) his headache had downgraded to a dull ache behind his eyes 2) he was curled up on top of his bed clad in only his boxers 3) Tess was standing at his bedside, her hand resting on the side of his head and fingers carding through his unruly hair. He started in surprise.

“Jesus, kid, what are you doing?” he mumbled as his heart slowly calmed down. He pressed his face against his pillow and sighed.

“Checking on you,” Tess replied casually.

“Thanks but since I’m half naked, how about you leave that to your dad?” he muttered.

“Dad took Marisol and Lydia to dinner,” she said, stepping back from her father.

Richie squinted his eyes at her and peered towards his nightstand. His phone was not there.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Little after five,” she answered.

“And he left you?”

“I didn’t want to go,” Tess explained. “I’m gonna go watch TV.”

Richie watched his daughter leave the bedroom and sighed once again before slowly sitting up. Fuck, he still felt like shit. He managed to stand, head to the dresser, and change into fresh pajamas but a large part of him just wanted to go back to bed. He went into the bathroom, poured three aspirin from the bottle into his hand, and dry swallowed them. He grimaced at his unshaven, haggard face in the mirror before heading out to the living room.

Tess was sitting on the couch, calmly working on a friendship bracelet and watching a Seinfeld rerun. She looked up when she heard her father enter.

“You don’t look so good,” she observed.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he muttered as he collapsed beside her on the couch.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Richie gazed down at his daughter, his heart clenching painfully with love.

“Later,” he answered. “I just want to sit here with you for now.”

Tess kept her gaze steady on her father and, not for the first time, Richie felt small in front of her.

“I’m going to get you some food,” she said suddenly. “And then this has to stop.”

Richie blinked.

“Wha…”

“Grandpa would be pissed at you,” she pointed out.

Richie’s heart dropped.

“And Dad…” Tess continued, “Dad’s been through enough.”

The same residual anger from earlier in the day rose up to his throat.

“Dad’s been through enough?” he repeated. “What about me? I’ve fucking been through enough.”

With a thoroughly unimpressed look on her face, Tess stood before reminding him, “It’s not a competition.”

She left her father stunned on the couch as she went to search for something for him to eat.

Richie was staring at his reflection when he heard the front door open and Marisol and Lydia greet their sister. He swallowed, squared his shoulders, and walked towards the foyer, his eyes unable to pull away from the sight of his husband tiredly hanging up his daughters’ jackets.

“Hi, Papa,” Marisol exclaimed happily. “Daddy said you was sick. Are you feeling better?”

Tears sprang to his eyes but Richie quickly clenched his eyes shut to will them away.

“Yeah, I am,” he answered, clearing his throat. He gazed at Eddie, who was looking at him nervously, and smiled. “Listen, I’ve decided something. I’m...I’m going to start going back to therapy. Made an appointment for Thursday so Lyds, Aunt Sarah will pick you up from piano lessons, okay?”

For a brief moment, no one said anything. Then Lydia suddenly threw her arms around Richie and hugged him tightly. Richie blinked in shock before bringing his own arms around his daughter, wincing in guilt as he felt her trembling in his arms. Tess followed after and Marisol, confused but always eager to copy her older sisters, joined in on the hug.

Over the top of Lydia’s head, Richie’s eyes met Eddie’s and, when he saw his husband genuinely smile, felt relief for the first time in weeks.

“What made you change your mind?” Eddie asked, his voice low and quiet in the dark.

Richie closed his eyes, savoring the touch of Eddie’s hands on his face.

“Something Tess said,” he whispered. “And when I got up and looked in the mirror afterwards, I hated what looked back at me.”

“Rich, baby, I don’t want you to hate yourself,” Eddie insisted, pressing delicate kiss along Richie’s cheekbones.

“I know,” he sighed. “That’s why I’m going.”

Eddie stretched out his arms and pulled Richie closer, their legs entangled in the bed.

“I’m sorry I left you there,” Eddie whispered after a long moment. “It was a dick move.”

“Also a bit of a wake up call,” Richie replied. He leaned back suddenly and gazed at Eddie. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Eddie said, “but you helped me get through my shit when we first got together. Now, it’s my turn to help you.”

Tears pricked at Richie’s eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

“You always help me,” he stated softly against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie deepened the kiss and pressed himself flush against Richie’s body.

“Fuck,” Richie hissed as he felt Eddie’s arousal press against his through their pajamas. Eddie carded his fingers through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. Richie sighed. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

Eddie smiled and Richie realized getting better maybe really would be worth it if it meant Eddie would continue to smile like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Stop by hollymartinswrites.tumblr.com to say hi! Thank you again so very much for reading!


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